


He Always Gets What He Wants

by nefarious_irusu



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Accidental Voyeurism, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Boys In Love, Chaptered, Character's Name Spelled as Viktor, Cliffhangers, Confessions, Crushes, Cute, Domestic Fluff, Eventual Happy Ending, Falling In Love, First Love, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Humor, Friends to Lovers, Friendship, Friendship/Love, Happy Ending, Implied Sexual Content, Jealousy, Light Angst, Love, Love Confessions, Love/Hate, Lust, M/M, Masturbation, Not Actually Unrequited Love, Other, Secret Crush, Slow Build, Slow Burn, Slow Romance, Temporarily Unrequited Love, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Underage Masturbation, Unrequited Crush, Unrequited Love, Work In Progress
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-18
Updated: 2018-10-11
Packaged: 2019-07-13 20:34:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 7
Words: 8,201
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16025501
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nefarious_irusu/pseuds/nefarious_irusu
Summary: And much to Yuri's feigned dismay, when Viktor and Yuuri asked him to come and visit them in Japan, Viktor got that, too.





	1. Chapter 1

When Viktor wanted something, he got it- and it wasn't just about the gold medals. When he wanted to become a coach, he did. When he wanted to make Katsuki Yuuri his lover, he did. When he wanted to move his home rink to the Ice Castle in Hatsetsu, he did. And much to Yuri's feigned dismay, when Viktor and Yuuri asked him to come and visit them in Japan, Viktor got that, too.

Yuri had time during the off-season, before he would begin to prepare his routines for the following year. He had a month off, and usually visited his grandfather for at least two weeks. For the next two weeks, he figured that he didn't have much to lose by flying out to see Viktor and Yuuri. It certainly wasn't that he _missed_ them, or anything. He just didn't have any better plans, or so he convinced himself upon finally agreeing to go.

“Yurio!” Viktor called out to him at the airport, causing him to scowl at the dreaded nickname. “Over here!”

Yuri gritted his teeth as he marched over to the grinning, waving pair, stopping just in front of them. “ _Stop calling me that_ ,” he hissed.

Viktor chuckled, and much to Yuri's annoyance, reached out to tousle his hair. “It's nice to see you, too.”

“Welcome, Yurio-eh-Yuri.” Yuuri's grin had softened into a bashful smile, his cheeks tinting pink as he shuffled his feet. If he didn't look so damn _nice_ all worked up like that, Yuri might have told him off for being nervous around him.

“Yeah, yeah,” he said instead. “I'm tired, let's go.”

Yuri jerked the handle of his suitcase away when Viktor reached for it, rolling it along himself out of sheer spite, despite already having Potya in the cat carrier in his other hand. He tsked when the couple held hands, Viktor planting a kiss on the top of Yuuri's head as the trio began to walk towards the exit.

“Gross old men,” Yuri barked, more angry with how the act made his chest tingle with a familiar feeling than with the public display of affection, itself.

“Don't act as if you didn't miss us!”

Yuri ignored Viktor the entire way out to the parking garage, wishing he weren't correct in his assumption. So maybe he had missed them the slightest bit- but that didn't mean they had to go and kiss in front of him, in public, no less. Their displays of affection made his insides tingle, and it was a confusing enough feeling when they were alone. Yuri was glad to get outside and into the fresh air.

“Our apartment isn’t far from here- it won’t be a very long drive,” Yuuri assured him as they entered a nearby parking garage.

“You got a car?” He asked Viktor, knowing that he never drove one when they lived in Russia. He had used public transport, or been driven around by Yakov or Mila.

“We sure did,” he chirped, unlatching himself from Yuuri’s hand long enough to grab keys from his pocket. He clicked the FOB two times, causing a silver car a few spots away to start up. 

“Remote start?” Yuri rolled his eyes. “Really?”

“Only the best for my Yuuri,” Viktor replied with a wink.

Yuri was silent most of the car ride, and thankfully, Viktor turned the radio on. Potya stayed relatively quiet; she was used to traveling. Yuri stared out the window, taking note of how the trees were blooming with tiny pink flowers.

“Sakura- cherry blossoms. They will fall in a week or two, and it will look like its raining pink flowers,” Yuuri explained, seeing where Yuri’s eyeshad drifted.

“Hmm,” he hummed in return. “That's cool, I guess.”

“We have a festival, too,” Yuuri continued. “We could go… if you want to.”

Yuri didn't have time to do anything more than nod as Viktor pulled the car into a parking spot, announcing, “here we are!”

The “apartment” looked more like a house. It was a duplex, a regular home split right down the middle with a front door on either side. Yuri could tell which side was Yuuri and Viktor's by the ice skate wind chime hanging on the porch. Rolling his eyes, Yuri grabbed Potya’s carrier and allowed Yuuri to take his suitcase for him.

“Make yourself at home,” Viktor told him as he opened the front door, ushering Yuri inside.

It was nothing like Viktor's apartment in St. Petersburg, and nothing like the onsen that Yuuri lived at with his parents. The apartment was some strange, homey mix of them both, as if Yuuri and Viktor had been fused together as one and used as the skeleton for this house.

It was modern but quaint, warm but polished. Viktor had always had finer taste, and Yuuri seemed to live a simpler life. The furniture and decoration were a blending of the two, with touches of both expensive pieces and modest ones. When Yuri breathed in, he smelled lavender and salt. 

“Makka!”

Yuri almost fell over as the poodle bounded towards him, standing on her hind legs to offer a doggy “hug". Yuri chuckled, patting her fur and letting her lick his face.

“Hi, girl,” he laughed, “I see you remember me.”

Viktor reached down and rubbed the top of Makkachin’s head before she lowered herself from Yuri and began to sniff the cat carrier he had placed on the floor. “I think he misses Potya, too.”

Yuri grumbled half-heartedly, embarrassed that Viktor would imply that they'd met before. Of course, they had- Yuri would bring Potya to Viktor's apartment when Yakov and Lilia were fighting, or when the other skaters at the student dorms were getting on his nerves, and spend the night there. But _Yuuri_ didn't need to know that.

“Your room is the first door on the left,” Yuuri cut in, pointing down the hallway. “The toilet is the first door on the right, and the bath is right next to it.” 

Viktor knelt down and unlatched the front of Potya’s carrier, prompting the fluffy cat to saunter out and yawn, surveying her new surroundings. “We left you some towels and toiletries on the bed if you want to have a shower before you rest.”

Yuri must have wrinkled his face in confusion, remembering a bit too late that he had used the excuse of being tired to get out of the airport. “Right, thanks. I'll have a shower and then lie down for a bit.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _"You're allowed to have feelings, you know,”_

Yuri didn't just “rest"- by the time he woke, it was dark out. He groaned, checking his phone and seeing that it was nearly six in the evening. He hated jetlag. The door to his room had been cracked when he had laid down to rest, but it was now completely closed. He crept from the bed and listened at it, hearing soft voices from down the hall. 

As soon as he opened the door, he was met with a delicious aroma. He followed the scent down the hallway, into the kitchen. Yuuri was pulling a tray from the oven, and Viktor was placing silverware on the table.

“You're awake,” he greeted with a smile.

Yuuri turned around after placing the tray on the counter, also full of smiles. “We were just going to wake you for dinner. You have great timing!”

Yuri rolled his eyes. “I didn't mean to sleep for so long; I'm going to be so jetlagged.”

Viktor hummed as Yuuri began setting plates of chicken and vegetables on the table. “You'll be okay after a day or two,” he argued.

“Here, sit.” Viktor ushered him into a chair, bringing him a glass of water.

“Thanks,” he muttered, taking the glass as the other two sat down on either side of him. “It smells good.”

Yuuri chuckled, shrugging. “I hope it tastes good, too.”

It tasted delicious. Yuuri's cooking was nothing like Viktor's- his always ended up burnt or otherwise inedible. They had always gotten takeout when Yuri stayed over. But Yuuri's cooking reminded him of his grandpa's, and of the cooking he'd had when he had travelled to America for a competition. It reminded him of the food he had tasted at Yuuri's onsen.

“It's good,” he told Yuuri with his mouth half full, barely taking the time to swallow. “How'd you learn to cook like this?”

Yuuri beamed, sitting up the slightest bit straighter. “Thank you. I learned a lot from my mom, and then I took a few cooking classes in college. I guess they're coming in handy, now.”

Viktor pouted from across the table as Yuri smirked, understanding Yuuri's reference. “Are you saying it comes in handy because you won't let me cook? I could help with dinner, too, you know-"

“Sure, if you want to give your boyfriend food poisoning,” Yuri snickered.

Yuuri laughed along with him, but Viktor only pouted further. “Food poisoning? I'm hurt,” he sighed, placing his hand over his chest.

Yuri rolled his eyes, going back to his food. “Anyway, it's really good, Katsudon.”

“Thanks.”

Yuuri's smile could melt the world.

 

“Do you know what you'll be doing next season?” Viktor asked, skating careful figure eights around Yuri.

He shrugged, carelessly making up a step sequence. “I haven't thought about it much. If I wait long enough, Yakov will just assign me something, I guess.”

Viktor skidded to a stop, frowning. “Wouldn't you rather skate something that your heart is in?”

Yuri rolled his eyes. “My heart isn't ‘in’ anything.”

Yuuri joined them from where he lingered at the edge of the ice, guiding Viktor to start skating again. “Your heart was in your Agape number last year. I could tell.”

Yuri thought about that piece for a moment, and how relating it to his grandpa had made it all come together for him. He kicked himself mentally- he had never been able to perform it well enough both technically and emotionally to meet his own standards. Whether he broke records and won, or not, it still wasn't good enough for his grandpa as far as he was concerned. 

“It wasn't in it enough,” he bit back before he could stop himself. Immediately, his cheeks burned with shame from being so _honest_ about his feelings. He rushed forward and launched himself into a double lutz to avoid Yuuri's response.

“You're allowed to have feelings, you know,” Yuuri offered quietly after he had landed.

The jump had given Yuri enough time to compose himself. “Shut up,” he barked.

Yuuri remained quiet after that, and Viktor didn't bring up the upcoming season again.

 

_“Fuck, Viktor. That feels so good.”_

_“Shh, we have to keep quiet.”_

_“Sorry!”_

Yuri's eyes stared wide at the ceiling, listening to the light squeak of their bed from the other side of the wall. It was slow and rhythmic, mixing with their hushed voices and the sound of skin hitting skin.

_“God, Yuuri, you're so sexy.”_

_“I love you.”_

_“I love you.”_

Yuri squeezed his eyes shut, becoming uncomfortably hard beneath his boxers. He shouldn't be getting turned on by this- but his body was betraying him. He pictured the actions going along with the audio whether his eyes were staring at a blank ceiling, or at the backs of his eyelids.

_“Harder, harder… please…”_

Viktor sounded so _needy_ in bed. Yuri huffed, rolling his hips forward and biting down on his lower lip. He shouldn't have even thought about touching himself to the sound of them fucking, but he found himself weak to the noise. His dick was so hard that it was aching, and his hips continually titled as if _he_ was the one buried inside Yuuri.

_“Oh, Vitya…_

Yuri's hand reached down his pants and underwear, blissfully gripping his cock at the base. He tasted iron in his mouth, but ignored it, beginning to stroke his shaft to the rhythm of the creaking bed. It would only be this once; he could indulge himself just once.

His hand soon became sticky with precum, and he used it as lube to quicken his strokes. He bit back a moan as he imagined his cock buried in Yuuri instead of his own palm, his hips canting up needily. He whimpered softly, feeling his orgasm building steadily.

_“More, Yuuri, more.”_

_“You feel too good; I don't want to come yet.”_

_“I'm going to come without you even touching me if you keep hitting that spot…”_

Yuri's eyes blew wide with lust; _Yuuri_ was inside of Viktor? Yuri was helpless to contain the groan that bubbled at his lips upon the realization. He jerked his hips up faster, moving his hand along his shaft even quicker as Viktor began to chant Yuuri's name incessantly.

Yuri imagined he was calling out his own name, that he was the one fucking Viktor senseless. He rolled over onto his stomach, getting on all fours and beginning to violently thrust into his slippery hand.

_“Fuck; Yuuri, yes! Fill me up… Oh fuck, yes!”_

Yuri gasped as he lost all control, biting the pillowcase to muffle the sounds of his pleasure as he came all over the sheets. He moaned, spilling as the panting on the other side of the wall came to its own crescendo. He slackened as their breathing evened out, the creaking of the bed coming to a halt.

The shame of what Yuri had done didn't wash over him until he was left exhausted, lying in his own mess. He groaned, managing to get up and clean himself, and the bedsheets, up. He laid back down afterwards, staring up at that ceiling again. He imagined that Viktor and Yuuri were cuddling on the other side of the wall, but Yuri was left alone.


	3. Chapter 3

“Your skating is sad today.”

Yuri fell out of his step sequence at the sound of Yuuri's voice echoing around him. Scowling, he skated to the edge of the rink and grabbed his water bottle without glancing at Yuuri. He joined Yuri at the edge of the rink as he was placing his water back down, resting his elbows on the barrier.

“Sorry, I didn't mean to startle you.” Yuuri paused for a moment, searching Yuri's face. “Will you tell me what's been bothering you?”

Yuri scoffed, desperately trying to turn his sudden vulnerability into brashness or anger. “Nothing is _bothering me_ ; I'm fine.”

Yuuri stared down at his hands, twisting them together. “I'm worried about you, and so is Viktor,” he whispered.

“I don't know why,” Yuri spat, knees growing shaky. “You're both idiots for worrying over nothing.”

“It isn't nothing,” Yuuri argued, meeting Yuri's eyes again. “You have been quiet and sad for three days now, talking to us both less and less. Did we do something… wrong? Did we upset you?”

Yuri desperately fought with himself to remain in control; not to break. “You didn't do anything. I'm fine. I already said I'm fine!”

“Then why are you about to cry?”

It was then that Yuri realized how tightly he had begun to grip the edge of the rink, his knuckles turning white. He let go hastily, sighing and swallowing twice to dissolve the lump in his throat.

“I'm not going to _cry_ ,” he snapped. “Where is your idiot boyfriend?” He asked, purely to change the subject.

“He took Makka to the dog park. The cherry blossoms have begun to fall, you know.”

Yuri remained silent, staring down at the ice. He clenched and unclenched his fists, slowly getting the feeling back into his hands.

“I said we would go to the festival, remember? Do… do you want to?”

Yuri scowled, kicking at the ice with his toe pick. “Yeah, fine. We'll go to the festival.”

Yuri didn't have to look up to see that Yuuri's face had lit up- he could hear it by the tone of his voice. “Perfect! I'll tell Viktor when we go home tonight, and then we can go tomorrow afternoon.”

“Yeah, yeah.”

 

“Are those… kimonos?”

Yuri gaped at Yuuri and Viktor, trying to convince himself that they didn't look _that_ good in the traditional Japanese outfits.

“They're yukata, actually,” Yuuri corrected. “They're cotton instead of silk and are usually worn in the warmer weather.” He paused a moment, bringing his finger to his lower lip. Yuri was sure that was a habit he had picked up from Viktor. “We could get you one to wear, if you'd like. I have some ones that don't fit any longer.”

Yuri held his hands up, frantically shaking his head. “No way!”

Chuckling, Yuuri clearly didn't take offense. Viktor pouted, egging him on. “Why not? You would look cute!”

Yuri's cheeks grew warm as his mind picked apart the compliment. What had Viktor meant by _cute_? Little kid cute, funny cute, or just _cute_ cute? Scowling, Yuri crossed his arms. “Quit making fun of me and let's just go.”

Yuri dared to make eye contact with Viktor, watching as his face softened. “I'm not making fun of you,” he assured Yuri. “I do think you would look cute.”

Yuri glowered, biting his lower lip and tasting blood. “I'm not some little kid you can dress up.”

“No, no, Yuri,” Yuuri cut in. “He didn't mean it like that at all. But you don't have to wear one if you don't want to.”

Viktor paused for a moment as Yuri continued to glare, finally changing his tactic. “I know you aren't a little kid. Yuuri isn't a little kid, and I think he's cute in his yukata.” He wrapped his arm around Yuuri as if to affirm it. “Will you wear one if I say that you'll look handsome in it?”

Yuri wanted to melt into the floor. His mouth went dry and he found himself darting his eyes away, shrugging insolently. “I don't care what I wear. Let's just _go_.”

 

“Are those _fish_ on a _stick_?” Yuri gaped as a child walked by, nibbling on the whole fish as if it was cotton candy.

Yuuri laughed, nodding. “Shioyaki,” he explained. “Sea bream. Would you like to try one?”

There was no sarcasm in his tone, so Yuri exclaimed, “ew, no!” and made a gagging noise to enunciate his disgust.

Viktor hummed, placing his hand on Yuri's shoulder and rubbing it through the fabric of his yukata. “You like sweets, don't you?”

 _He remembered what Yuri liked._ Yuri nodded, trying not to let his surprise show. “Yeah.”

“We’ll get you taiyaki, then!” Yuuri suggested, grabbing hold of Yuri's hand.

Not minutes later, Yuri was holding a fish-shaped bread. “What's in it again?” He asked, watching as Viktor bit into his own.

“This one has custard, yours has chocolate. We can share, though, if you want.”

Yuri shrugged, bringing the food to his mouth and taking a tentative bite. Surprisingly, the bread was sweet. A burst of chocolate slid onto his tongue when he bit inside. “It's good!”

Yuuri grinned. “I'm glad you like it!”


	4. Chapter 4

As they walked the festival grounds, Yuri was drawn to a stall with a plastic pool, and children and teenagers gathered around. They were kneeling down with flimsy looking scoops and wooden bowls, trying to scoop goldfish into them. He squinted at the Japanese characters on the sign, pointing.

“What's that?”

Yuuri glanced up, eyes going bright with excitement. “Oh, kingyo-sukui! I loved that as a child.” He gathered himself, explaining, “It's a game where you use a paper scoop to catch goldfish, and you can keep any that you catch.”

Yuri stared on, watching as a little girl squealed and showed her parents her wooden bowl, returning an empty scoop to the vendor. He poured the fish and water into a bag, tying it off and handing it back to her. There were three goldfish inside.

“Would you like to try?”

Yuri found himself nodding, though he worried Viktor might see the game as childish or silly. But, Viktor was quiet as they moved to the stall. Yuuri had a quick conversation with the vendor, returning with a wooden bowl of water and scoop for Yuri.

“Here you go.”

Yuri held onto both items as he was guided to kneel, with Yuuri to his right and Viktor to his left. He grasped the handle of the scoop, twisting it back and forth for a moment.

“Remember to be gentle- the paper in the middle of the poi will break easily.”

“The what?”

“The poi,” Yuuri repeated. “The scoop.”

Yuri nodded wordlessly, watching the small fish dart around the pool. He licked his lips and lowered the poi, trying to swipe a spotted one as it swam by. He didn't come close, causing him to furrow his brow. He tried again with a fully orange fish, missing that one, as well.

“Here,” Yuuri offered, gently placing his hand over Yuri's. He held his breath at the contact, the warmth of Yuuri's hand traveling up his arm. “Try it like this.”

Yuuri guided Yuri's hand down, letting the poi sit at the surface of the water, barely submerged. They stayed still for an eternity as fish swam by, but Yuuri still made no move to guide Yuri's hand. Finally, long after Yuri felt his face growing hot, his hand was made to swoop down and to the side.

“Look!” He gasped as Yuuri helped him plop a gold and white fish into the wooden bowl. “We caught one!” He showed Viktor, grinning.

Viktor grinned back, putting his arm around Yuri. For once, he didn't stop him. “Go on, catch another,” Viktor encouraged him.

This time, Yuuri let go of his hand to let Yuri try on his own. He fought the urge to whimper at the loss of his comforting warmth, and managed to win. He held the poi the same way Yuuri had shown him, waiting patiently until he saw a slower fish that he might be able to scoop.

“Look, another one!”

This one was gold and black, and larger than the first. Yuri frowned when he glanced down to see his poi had broken open from the weight of it. He must have still been rougher than Yuuri was.

“It looks like two is the magic number,” Viktor mused. 

Yuuri returned to the vendor with the bowl and the poi. Yuri watched as he bagged them, and then as Yuuri pointed to one of the fish bowls on the shelf nearby. After another exchange of words and yen, Yuuri came back with the fish and a bowl with some gravel and a plastic plant.

“Here you go.” He handed the fish to Yuri, holding onto the bowl. “You can keep them in the bowl, in your room.”

 _His room_. Yuri nodded, pushing back the thought of having to leave and go back home. With the goldfish bag in his left hand, he reached out and tugged Yuuri's sleeve with his right. “Thanks,” he murmured with sincerity.

“You're welcome.”

When both Yuuri and Viktor turned to smile at him, Yuri couldn't help but imagine what those lips would feel like against his own.

 

With his eyes shut, Yuri ran his fingers through Potya's fur. It was soft and soothing, like a taste of home. Cicadas chirped outside his open window, a sound he wasn't used to. Yuuri and Viktor were asleep in the other room, and the only other sound that could be heard was the patter of Makkachin’s nails in the hallway.

He would feel more at ease in such a relaxing environment, if it weren't for his inner turmoil. It was sick enough to be sexually aroused by the two of them- but it was even worse that he might have a _crush_ on them. They were dating, probably soon to be engaged. In a week, Yuri would leave them to return home, and miss them again until he saw them sparingly at competitions. He didn't have time for a fruitless lusting.

Yuri groaned, disturbing Potya. She made a grumpy sound and jumped from Yuri's chest, knocking the wind out of him and leaving him alone with his thoughts. Yuri turned his face into the pillow- Yuuri had just washed the sheets. They smelled like lemon and the outdoors. He had hung them to dry on the line in the backyard.

He had always loved Viktor, in a way. As a role model, or an older brother. But he wasn't supposed to jerk off to the sounds of someone he loved like a brother. He weren't supposed to wish that he was the one buried inside him instead of his boyfriend. Something was wrong.

The goldfish he had won, named Alexi and Ingrid, swam peacefully in their bowl on his nightstand. What would become of them when Yuri had to leave? Surely he couldn't bring them home to Russia on a plane.

It was a silly thought, but one that stuck with him. Perhaps he was making excuses for not wanting to go home- he truly didn't want to go home. Their home felt more like home than any house he had ever lived in, aside from his grandfather's. Even in a foreign country where he couldn't even ask for directions, he felt at home with Viktor and Yuuri. He vowed to himself that he would never admit that to them.

 

He was ferly and desperate, that much was certain. Anxiety wracked him with inner turmoil at the thought of going back home, a sensation that disturbed him, at best. His skating was suffering for it- he could tell by the sympathetic looks that Yuuri shot him from across the ice. Viktor pursed his lips as he watched Yuri skate, tilting his head and wrinkling his brow. They both knew that something was wrong.

“Let's take a break!” Viktor finally suggested.

Yuuri nodded in agreement, drifting off the ice with Yuri close behind. They sat on the bench and pulled their skates from their sore, abused feet in silence. Viktor waited a coy thirty seconds after they had laced up their sneakers to ask,

“Will you tell us what's bothering you?”

 _I want to stay here with you_. How he longed to let the words slip from his mouth. He wished he was so easily able to voice his wants, his _needs_. But his pride won over his longing, and he only mumbled, “nothing's bothering me.”

Viktor sighed, running his fingers through his bangs. It was obvious he was biting back something harsh as he managed, “you can talk to us, you know.”

He could, if his fear of being held open for all to see didn't consume him. He could, if he wasn't terrified of letting people in. He could, if he didn't force himself to hide inside a hollow shell and show no vulnerability.

“There's nothing to talk about.”

Yuuri's hand landed on his shoulder, warm and comforting in the worst way. “Are you getting homesick? We can see about getting you an earlier flight, if you wanted.”

“No!” He sputtered, much too quickly. His cheeks burned as he continued, “I-I'm not homesick.”

“Okay.” Yuuri's voice was quiet and unsure.

“Just let us know if you want to talk about it,” Viktor finally gave up.

He wished that he had the strength to.


	5. Chapter 5

The knock on his door came two nights before Yuri was set to fly back home. It was soft and barely audible, as if whoever it was was unsure if he really wanted to enter the room.

“Yeah?”

Yuuri's voice sounded just as unsure as his knocking. “Can I come in?”

“Yeah.”

Yuuri was clad in his pajamas, his glasses tilting and his hair sticking up at odd angles. He shut the door behind him carefully, walking across the carpeted floor in silent strides.

“Were you asleep?”

Yuuri shook his head, sitting on the edge of the bed without invitation. He ran his fingers through Potya's fur absentmindedly. “I couldn't fall asleep. Viktor was sleeping the second his head hit the pillow.” He paused, licking his lips. “I saw your light was on, so I thought we could talk since you were still awake.”

Yuri nodded, eyes focused on the steady strokes Yuuri was making on Potya's back. “Why can't you sleep?”

“I'm not sure.” There was a pregnant pause, and then Yuuri sighed. “We're both going to miss you when you leave.”

Yuri's throat turned to sandpaper, and no amount of swallowing was able to soothe the sensation. He forced himself to change the subject, persisting, “that isn't why you can't sleep.”

Yuuri shook his head. “No, I guess not.” He fiddled with the bedspread, not speaking again for some time. “We're friends, right? That's why you came out here? I know you don't do anything if you really don't want to.”

Yuri felt his cheeks burning up. He looked away, memorizing the small crack in the wall going from the ceiling to the top of the window. “Viktor kept bugging me about coming, that's all.”

Yuuri hummed, ending the sound with a soft sigh. “Alright, then,” he finally gave in. He stood sharply, and Yuri cringed at the motion. _He’d upset him_. “I guess I'll try and sleep again. You should get some rest, too.”

It took Yuri until he heard the twisting of the doorknob to blurt out, “I'm going to miss you guys, too.”

Silence hung between them, only broken by the creaking of the door opening. “Goodnight, Yuri.”

“Goodnight.”

Yuri buried his face in his pillow, groaning into it and muffling the sound. He was such an idiot. It was no wonder the two of them treated him like such a kid. Yuri fell asleep with Viktor and Yuuri on his mind, and met them in his dreams.

 

“I thought Yakov was going away with Lilia next week,” Viktor said between bites of his eggs.

Yuri froze, his fork in the air halfway to his mouth. He finally settled for putting the utensil back down, and taking a sip of his coffee instead. He had forgotten that Yakov and Lilia had planned a trip to try and “rekindle their love". The thought alone made Yuri lose his appetite.

“Yeah, he is. It's fucking gross.”

“Watch your tongue,” Viktor warned half-heartedly. He took another bite before asking, “if Yakov isn't even going to be there, then why are you going back home?”

Yuri thought about that for a second. This was the perfect excuse for him to stay another week without letting on that he actually might _want_ to spend another week with them by choice. He shrugged, pushing the eggs around on his plate.

“I forgot he was going. I guess if he isn't going to be there to train me…” _then you're right_. “Then yeah… what's the point?”

Yuuri chose that moment to cut in, suggesting, “why don't you stay, then? Viktor can be of some help to your choreography, I'm sure.”

Yuri scoffed, as if the idea hadn't crossed his mind a thousand times. “You two just don't want me to leave.”

Viktor shrugged shamelessly. “You're right, we don't.”

“Whatever,” Yuri agreed, effectively hiding the fact that he was glowing inside, “I guess I'll stay, to shut you idiots up.”

Yuuri shot him a grin from across the table. “Great!”

 

They didn't know he had returned from the bathroom; they didn't know he was watching them skate. Yuri kept still and quiet, intent on keeping them none the wiser to his presence.

Viktor's hand sat easily at Yuuri's waist, guiding him as if they were dancing. Yuuri smiled up at him, eyes sparkling. It looked like it was the first time they touched- _every_ time they touched, it looked like the first time. They were both so enthralled with one another.

Viktor flashed a sly smile before turning slowly and lifting Yuuri into the air, causing him to grab Viktor's shoulders to keep his balance. “Vitya!” He laughed as he was spun carefully. 

“I love you, Yuuri,” Viktor murmured as he set him down.

Their flawless movement stopped, and Yuuri rested his head on Viktor's shoulder. “I love you, Vitya.”

When their lips met, Viktor's hand tilting up Yuuri's chin, it looked like a painting. No, it was more like the cover of a romance novel. They were perfect, the two of them. _Just the two of them_. Yuri belatedly reminded himself that he wasn't a part of that picture.

“Yuri, you're back!”

Yuri hadn't realized they had pulled away, or noticed him beside the benches. He nodded stiffly, sitting down on the bench and pulling at the laces of his skates. There was no way he could face them right now, not when a poisonous mixture of jealousy and anxiety was bubbling in his chest.

“I don't feel too great. You guys stay and skate, I'm going to go take a nap.”

Viktor and Yuuri were off the ice before Yuri could lace up his sneakers, Yuuri offering, “we’ll go home with you.”

Yuri shook his head, refusing to look anywhere but the floor. “Stay, okay? Please.” 

The “p" word must have been enough emphasis, because Viktor asked, “do you need to be alone for a bit?”

Yuri nodded, though he wanted nothing more than the opposite. He was always alone; he had always been alone. Yuuri and Viktor were the closest things he had to friends, and his stupid feelings were going to ruin that if he didn't get them in check.

“Yeah,” he relied hoarsely.

Before they could coax the reason why from him, he was out the door. He rushed down the streets that were still familiar to him, speed-walking over the bridge. He sighed with relief as their apartment came into view- it was even closer to the rink than Yuuri's family onsen.

Yuri collapsed the second he was through the front door, not making it past the entryway. The shallow breaths he had been holding back began wracking his chest at once, and he sunk to the floor. He buried his face in his knees, finally letting the scene that had played out at the rink overtake him.

He had to stop- he had to make these feelings go away. He couldn't risk losing arguably the two most important people in his life. Viktor and Yuuri were _happy_. He couldn't let a teenage crush ruin that. He couldn't let his craving for love and human contact control him.

Makkachin rested her head on top of Yuri's, sensing his distress. Yuri sobbed dryly, no tears burning behind his eyes but his chest caving in all the same. Makkachin whined, nudging his head with her own.

“What if I can't make it go away, Makka?” He asked, more to himself.

She whined again in response. Yuri shuddered, realizing that if it didn't go away, it might just push him over the edge.

 

He feigned sleep when the couple arrived home, but it didn't stop Viktor from knocking on his door. He didn't wait for Yuri's response before slipping inside.

“Tell me what's going on,” he murmured, making the bed dip as he sat down. He had gotten much too perceptive since being with Yuuri. The old Viktor would have been oblivious to Yuri's state.

Yuri shifted under the covers, mumbling, “I'm sleeping, go away.”

“You aren't.” Viktor pulled the covers back enough to reveal Yuri's head, and the sour expression on his face. “Come on, what's happened since you got here? You're upset about something.”

Yuri tried to suppress just how good being _cared about_ felt, swallowing the sensation down. He tried to steady himself, shrugging. “I'm not upset. I've just been tired.”

Viktor moved closer, and Yuri froze as his fingers began to touch his hair. Viktor carded through his locks in a way that made Yuri want to melt away into nothing. “I'm here for you,” he whispered. “We both are.” When the words didn't elicit a response, Viktor tried again. “You can talk to us about anything.”

 _Anything except having a crush on them both_. 

“I don't want to go home,” Yuri finally croaked, the closest thing he could manage to the truth.

Viktor moved closer, taking the admission as a step in the right direction. He pressed his body against Yuri from behind, holding his stiff frame tightly. “And why couldn't you just tell us that?” Viktor asked, no bite in his tone. “You can stay for as long as you want to.”

Yuri's heart was surely going to pound right out of his chest. It rocked his ribcage at a steadily increasing pace as Viktor's breath ghosted the back of Yuri's neck. He stumbled over his words, both drunk and terrified at their close proximity. “I… I don't… I felt stupid.”

“You aren't stupid,” Viktor soothed. “Why are you so tense?” He rubbed at Yuri's arms, trying to loosen him up. “Is it not just an act? If me touching you makes you uncomfortable, I'll respect your boundaries.”

The torture of Viktor's touch was welcome; a tiny glimpse of all that Yuri truly wanted from him. While he knew that he shouldn't blatantly fuel his own selfish desires, he found himself shaking his head. He tried his best to release the stiffness in his body, letting himself relax into Viktor's warmth the slightest bit.

“There we go,” Viktor murmured, going back to petting Yuri's hair. “We want you to stay with us, too. We were both going to miss you when you left.”

Yuri hummed, unable to find his voice. He was warm and the methodical movement of Viktor's fingers in his hair was making him sleepy. He didn't protest when his eyes started drooping closed. When he woke the next morning, he was cold and alone.


	6. Chapter 6

They were at it again. Yuri buried his head beneath his pillow and tried to block it out, but he could still hear their desperate whispers and skin meeting skin. Once again, he was beside himself with lust while hearing them make love through the wall.

He wanted to resist touching himself, but his hips seemed to rock up on their own accord with each gasping breath that Yuuri drew in. Yuri's cock became harder and harder as Viktor called out Yuuri's name- no, _his name_ \- and he couldn't control himself any longer.

_“It feels so good. So, so good.”_

Yuri stroked himself to the rhythm of their creaking bed, his hips jolting up into his fist.

_“Don't stop!”_

Yuri moved his hand faster, embarrassingly close to coming so soon after touching himself.

_“Vitya, please. Faster, I… I need to…”_

Yuri moaned softly, pressing his free hand over his mouth to stop any more sounds from spilling out. 

_“Yes, Yuuri, come for me, baby.”_

Yuri let out a muffled cry as he came all over his own hand, stroking himself through his pleasure as Viktor fucked Yuuri through his. Yuri was beginning to find it hard to even be ashamed of himself, anymore.

 

“Don't _splash_ me,” Yuri grumbled, ducking down and sending a wave of water back towards Yuuri.

He giggled, only leaning forward and scooping up more ocean water to splash in Yuri's direction. “I swear, Katsudon, I'm gonna-"

Yuri gasped as two hands landed at his bare waist, lifting him from the water. “Stop being so uptight!” Viktor chided before jumping up and sending them both under the water.

When they came up, Viktor still held onto Yuri, wet hair clinging to his face as he grinned. Yuri shivered as cold droplets coursed down him, scowling at the older man and attempting to kick him under the water.

“Asshole!”

“Watch your language, Yurio-oh!”

Yuri snickered as Yuuri came behind Viktor with a plastic bucket of water, effectively pouring it over his head. Viktor laughed as he wiped his face with his hands, gasping, “you little devil!”

They spent the entire afternoon like that, carrying on at the beach. They ate sandwiches for lunch that Yuuri had packed in a cooler, and got ices when the vendor came by. They spent some time in the sand building castles, but most of it in the sea. By the time the sun was setting, the three of them were sprawled out on the beach blanket, nearing exhaustion.

“Did you have fun?”

Yuuri's voice was soft to Yuri's right. “Yeah,” he mumbled.

“What was your favorite part?” Viktor asked to his left.

Yuri shrugged, looking at the watercolor sky. Yellow was bleeding into orange and red, just barely darkening into violet at the top of the horizon. “The water, I guess. I never went to the beach much.”

Viktor hummed just as Yuri shut his eyes. The sunset was nearly over, and a cool breeze had begun to make goosebumps prickle on his chest and stomach. His arms were kept warm from how close Viktor and Yuuri were at either side of him.

“Yuri?”

He hummed in response to Yuuri, becoming drowsy. 

“We're glad you stayed.”

Yuri's heart stopped as Yuuri's hand reached between them, threading Yuri's fingers through his own. His palm lit on fire, shockwaves reaching the tip of every finger. Yuri kept his eyes closed, trying to keep his breathing at a steady pace. He couldn't stop the fact that his heart had sprung back to life, setting off fireworks within his ribcage.

He knew he needed to respond to Yuuri, but his throat had swollen shut. Why was Yuuri squeezing his hand like that? Why hold his hand, when he could hold Viktor's any time he pleased? Yuri's brain spun inside his head, endless questions looping over the sound of waves crashing.

“Sorry…” Yuuri's voice finally cut through Yuri's racing thoughts, his hand starting to uncurl from Yuri's. 

“I-" Yuri scrambled for words, desperately latching onto Yuuri's hand to keep him from pulling it away. He was glad to see it had grown dark when he opened his eyes, knowing his cheeks must be scalding with a blush. “I'm glad, too,” he whispered, nearly inaudible.

Yuuri relaxed next to him, squeezing his hand gently. “It's okay,” he whispered close, for only Yuri to hear. “It's okay to let yourself go.”

Yuri didn't allow himself to think about what Yuuri might mean by the words. He shut his eyes again, relaxing into Yuuri's touch.

 

“I'm so gonna kick your ass, Katsudon!”

“Yeah right! I've been playing this game since before you were even born!”

Viktor chuckled from behind them, leaning down to place his elbows on the back of the couch. He placed a hand on each of their shoulders, rubbing methodically. In the last few weeks, Yuuri and Viktor hadn't stifled their casual touches. Yuri hadn't grown immune to them, however. His hands fumbled on the controller at the warmth of Viktor's hand.

“Told you!” Yuuri boasted, throwing his controller down onto the couch as he knocked Yuri's character out. 

Yuri grumbled, tossing his own controller down. “Yeah, yeah. It was just dumb luck.”

“Hmm,” Viktor murmured. “That sounds like a challenge for...A rematch!” 

At the last word, Viktor dropped his hands down to Yuri's sides and began to tickle him mercilessly. Yuri squealed, much to his embarrassment, and tried to squirm from Viktor's grasp.

“Cut it out, old man!”

Yuuri was laughing next to him, and when he finally managed to nearly wriggle away, he helped his boyfriend by grabbing Yuri's shoulders. He held him down, stating, “I don't think so! You can't get away that easily!”

“Stop it!” Yuri screeched, finally laughing along with them. “I'm gonna piss myself!”

“Not until I get my rematch!” Yuuri laughed, beginning to tickle under Yuri's arms.

Yuri gasped, his feet and hands flailing as he tried to decide who he would have more luck shooing off him. He twisted on the couch in his feigned struggle, finally ending up lying longways, out of Viktor's immediate reach.

He was just about to boast about his own catlike cleverness when he realized that Yuuri had twisted down with him. He hovered over Yuri, panting. Yuri froze, the aroma of Yuuri's cinnamon gum filling his nostrils. He gaped, mouth parted, at the way their noses could nearly brush.

“You okay?” Yuuri asked quietly, making no move to inch off of Yuri.

Yuri's brain short-circuited as cinnamon filled his nose once more, intoxicating him. He took in a breath so sharp that it whistled softly, nearly fainting when Yuuri's nose bumped against his. _Don't do it_.

He ignored the subconscious thought, shutting his eyes and leaning in to close the minuscule space between their lips.


	7. Chapter 7

Yuuri kissed him back.

As their lips pressed together, he felt Yuuri moving his against Yuri's own. It was warm and saccharine; everything Yuri imagined his first kiss to be. The cinnamon taste on Yuuri set his own lips on fire, and he felt the fever that had been building inside of him for so long ignite. The horror that he'd just kissed Viktor's boyfriend didn't hit him until the moment was over, and Yuuri had pulled back.

“I-"

He didn't know what to say. Everything inside of him bubbled up and exploded, ripping his insides to shreds and destroying every logical thought in his mind. 

“I'm sorry, I-"

He couldn't fathom a single word after that, certainly nothing that would fix what he'd just done, so he remained silent. He didn't notice that Yuuri still hovered over him until he brushed back a lock of Yuri's hair. His expression was soft, no hint of anger.

“Don't cry,” Viktor whispered from above.

He didn't realize that he had been until Viktor reached down, thumbing away the dampness tracking down his cheeks. As if he wasn't already feeling pathetic, now he was crying in front of them, too.

“I…” Words wouldn't suffice for him here, Yuri already knew that. He took a deep breath, shaking his head. “I can go,” he offered. “I'm sure I could get a flight for tomorrow and if you could just not tell anybody and-”

“Yuri, no,” Yuuri whispered, cupping his cheeks with dangerously warm hands. “Please don't leave us, not after this.”

Yuri shuddered, this time feeling the hot tears that escaped his eyes. “But I kissed you,” he all but whimpered. 

“Yeah,” he agreed. “You did.” This time, it was Yuuri who thumbed away his still-falling tears.

“Why don't you hate me?” Yuri croaked, as Viktor moved from behind the couch to join he and Yuuri on it.

“It might be a little bit of a love-hate relationship sometimes,” Viktor mused, “but why would we hate you for finally showing us how you feel?”

Yuri’s breathing became heavy as Viktor stroked his hair and Yuuri rubbed his back. His head was spinning; their reactions were both too much and not enough. He broke apart Viktor's words again and again inside his head, but they still made no sense to him. “I don't understand,” he whispered.

Yuri gasped as Viktor used his slender fingers to tilt up his chin. He closed his eyes upon instinct, melting as Viktor pressed their lips together. He kissed different from Yuuri- stronger, more confident. He tasted like coconut. When he pulled away, Yuri was even more confused than before.

“We've been wanting to kiss you for a long time,” Viktor explained. “Quite a long time.”

“We weren't sure if you liked us, too, and… we didn't want to scare you off, or make you feel uncomfortable,” Yuuri added.

Yuri’s heart swelled at their consideration, swallowing his pride and asking, “w-wait, you _like_ me?”

“Very much so,” Viktor assured him with a nod.

“You… you aren't making fun of me?”

“No, of course not.” Yuuri reached down and threaded their fingers together, giving Yuri's hand a squeeze. “We wouldn't do that to you, Yuri.”

Yuri sighed softly, not protesting as Yuuri wrapped his arms around his waist. When Viktor hugged his chest from behind, Yuri sank into that touch, as well. His vulnerability was hidden in the cocoon they had made with their bodies, keeping Yuri safe inside. 

Maybe, Yuri could learn to open up.

 

“The movie is starting! Come on, Yuri!”

“I'm coming, I'm coming,” Yuri grumbled, feigning irritation. 

He got on his hands and knees, crawling into the fort Viktor had made on the living room floor. Yuuri patted the space between them on the blanket-covered floor, and Yuri gladly curled up between them.

“We're watching Beauty and the Beast,” Yuuri told him.

“Mm…” Yuri hummed as Viktor pressed a kiss to the top of his head, and Yuuri wrapped his arm around him. “I like that one.”

The movie began, the screen lighting up the otherwise dark room. With two sets of arms around him, Yuri was safe and warm. He leaned his head on Viktor's shoulder, hiding his smile in the older man's shirt. It was almost unfathomable to Yuri that he could be this _happy_. 

Each time his lips met one of theirs, each time he crawled into their bed at night- he was reminded that he was loved. And that, Yuri decided, was the best thing he had ever felt. Yuri smiled as Yuuri pressed a kiss to his cheek, easily returning the gesture before settling back down onto Viktor's shoulder. 

Viktor did always get what he wanted- and this time, Yuri did, too.


End file.
